


The Cure for Neglect

by kadharonon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18057005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadharonon/pseuds/kadharonon
Summary: Two months ago, a very drunk Gabriel Agreste showed up at Nathalie's door and spent the night in her bed.Now, she's dealing with the consequences of it.(This is what happens when you egg me on.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [karuvapatta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/karuvapatta/gifts), [SilverFliesInBlueSugar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFliesInBlueSugar/gifts).



The past month and a half had been hell for Nathalie. She was normally good at her job—excellent, in fact—but for the past month and a half, she just hadn’t been able to keep on top of things. More days than not, no matter how much coffee she had, her brain succumbed to a fog that made it impossible to keep her mind on the task at hand.

Of course, now she knew why, and it didn’t make things any easier. But what needed to happen next wouldn’t be easy either.

The doorbell rang, snapping her attention back to her work.

“Yes?”

The young woman outside stammered out something about being in Adrien’s class and held up a present, and Nathalie opened the mailbox for her. When Nathalie returned to her station at her desk, Mr. Agreste’s voice came echoing through the intercom.

“Who was that?” he snapped.

“A friend of Adrien’s. She wanted to give him a gift for his birthday.”

“Did you remember to buy him a present from me?”

Nathalie stammered, caught off guard, unexpectedly awkward with her boss now that she had figured out what, exactly, was causing her exhaustion. “Uh… but… you didn’t ask me to,” she got out.

Chances were that he hadn’t… but she had purchased a gift from Mr. Agreste for Adrien’s past three birthdays, and she should have anticipated the request this year, too. At least when Emilie had still been around, Adrien had been able to count on one parent to get him a gift that mattered.

“Of course I did!” Mr. Agreste snapped.

“Yes, Mr. Agreste! I’ll take care of it.” She would find the time somehow, despite her exhaustion. And then her eye caught on the present on her desk, unlabeled, and in a box held shut only by ribbon, and she picked it up with a sigh of relief. Hopefully whatever was inside it would do.

The doorbell chimed again, another of Adrien’s friends, intent on seeing Adrien’s father. Nathalie tried not to roll her eyes as the boy faced down Mr. Agreste. The child was right, of course; Adrien did deserve a chance at normalcy, at a party with his friends, but this was exactly the wrong way for him to go about convincing Adrien’s father that it was a good idea. The man could out-stubborn anyone, and he had a perverse streak a mile long.

When Adrien’s friend—Nino, that was the boy’s name—left, Adrien followed him for a moment, and Nathalie took the opportunity to follow Gabriel up the stairs. “Sir, could I have a word?”

“Not now, Nathalie.”

“It’s important.”

“So is this.” And he was through the door of his office, shutting and locking it behind him.

Nathalie sighed and returned to her desk. She had been trying to have the little chat with him that she needed to have all day, but he had been busy, and so had she. But before she could sit back down at her desk, a bubble came through the window, pulling her out with it.

“Well,” she said to herself. “I suppose this is happening.”

For a lack of anything better to do, she took a nap.

By the time the miraculous power of the Ladybug spread across the city, returning Nathalie to her desk, she had forgotten all about Adrien’s present. It was only Mr. Agreste asking whether his son liked his gift that reminded her.

She felt a little guilty, crumpling up the post-it that had appeared on the front of the present, labeling it as from Marinette, but the expression of joy on Adrien’s face helped her set her guilt aside… and she now had an excuse to go have that face-to-face conversation with Mr. Agreste that she’d been trying—and failing—to have all day. She patted her pocket, making sure the plastic bag and its contents were still secure there. And then she straightened her spine and made for his office.

She knocked on the door, then entered without waiting for a response. If she waited, she would lose the courage to do this.

“What do you want?” Mr. Agreste didn’t look up from the screen in front of him.

Nathalie pushed the door shut behind her. “Your son asked me to thank you for his gift.”

Mr. Agreste glanced up at that, obviously irritated. “You could have told me over the intercom.”

“We need to talk, sir.”

He frowned. “Has something gone wrong with the plans for the show in Milan?”

“No, as far as I’m aware, those plans are ticking along just fine, sir.”

“Then what?”

“It’s about…” Nathalie’s mouth clamped shut of its own accord, and she let out a hiss of breath through her teeth. She took a deep breath and relaxed her jaw, ignoring the strange look Mr. Agreste was giving her. She could almost believe it was concern.

“What is this about, Nathalie?” The irritation was still there, but tempered by something else.

“Two months ago. That night you… that night we…”

Mr. Agreste’s eyes widened. “I was drunk. I made a mistake. We agreed not to mention that again.”

Nathalie had been standing just inside the door since entering, but now she crossed to stand on the other side the desk from Mr. Agreste. He watched her warily, but didn’t move. “I wouldn’t, it’s just… there have been consequences.”

He frowned. “Consequences?”

Nathalie sighed, and pulled the plastic bag out of her pocket, placing it on the desk between them.

Mr. Agreste stared down at the positive pregnancy test inside with an expression of growing horror on his face. “You’re sure…?”

“That it’s yours?” Nathalie let out a bitter little laugh. “Absolutely. You’re the only man that I’ve... well.” She shrugged awkwardly, avoiding his gaze. “I’m sure it’s yours. That’s all.”

“I see.” She could feel his eyes fixed on her, but still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. So it was a bit of a shock when his hand came up under her chin, tilting her face upward and to the side so that she was forced to meet his eye. He had come around the desk to her side and was studying her, a deep frown forming creases between his eyebrows.

“Sir?”

“What do you want to do, Nathalie?”

Nathalie swallowed hard. “I was hoping you’d know, sir.”

“I…” He sighed. “I’m a married man, Nathalie. No matter what my opinion is, it will be your life that this effects the most.”

Of course. Emilie Agreste was gone—or as good as gone—but she was far from forgotten, and for a moment Nathalie hadn’t remembered that. She lifted her chin, staring Mr. Agreste down, her courage suddenly returning to her in the face of his lack of it. “And if I choose to carry through with it?”

A strange expression crossed Mr. Agreste’s face. If she didn’t know better, she would think it was almost hopeful. “If you would allow me to…”

Nathalie frowned and took a step back, pulling away from him. “Are you saying that you would want to be a father, if I kept the child?”

He gave her a slight nod and made a little noise of affirmation.

Nathalie eyed him dubiously. “Forgive me, sir, but you aren’t exactly doing a stellar job of parenting the child you already have. I’d rather be a single mother than subject any child of mine to that sort of neglect.”

He flinched, but didn’t try to deny it.

“I’m not sure why I bothered telling you,” Nathalie heard herself say bitterly. “I know what you’re like.”

“Nathalie, I…” he looked suddenly helpless.

“You’re right on one count, though. This is something I can only decide on my own.” And, her spine still ramrod straight, Nathalie turned away from Mr. Agreste and left his office, listening for his footsteps behind her and hearing nothing.

She just wished she could have given in to the satisfaction of slamming his office door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel has some self-reflecting to do.

Gabriel stared at the closed door of his office, instinctively reaching under his necktie to finger the gem that was pinned there. After a moment, a small voice broke the silence.

“She was very angry, Master,” Nooroo said quietly.

“Yes.”

“You're not going to…?”

The kwami’s implied meaning broke Gabriel out of his reverie, and he dropped his hand immediately and went back around his desk, trying to figure out where he had left off in his work. “Of course not.”

He ignored Nooroo’s sigh of relief. Did the kwami truly think him so heartless that he would akumatize a pregnant woman?

_Probably,_ Gabriel realized.

After all, how did he truly know he hadn't?

Gabriel looked down at the half-finished design on the screen in front of him and let out a snort of disgust, discarding it. No. That wasn't right at all. He sank into the rhythm of working, sketching dress after dress… and hating every one of them.

Well. His own mental state was just as troubled as Nathalie’s had obviously been. How dare she accuse him of neglecting Adrien! And then, in the next thought, how could she not? When Emilie had been here, she had made it easy for the three of them to be a family, but as she had faded, Gabriel had found it harder and harder to spend time with the boy. After all, Adrien looked so much like his mother.

But one set of words was seared into his mind above all the rest, above the charge of neglect, above the sudden knowledge that their night together—a night he'd been trying hard to forget, and failing to—had had consequences. What had Nathalie meant, when she had said “You’re the only man that I’ve…”

How would that sentence have ended? Surely not with her saying that he was the only man she had ever slept with. A woman who looked like her… she was only five years younger than him, for god’s sake. He couldn't be the only man she had ever slept with.

Or had he been?

Gabriel had never been much of one to pay attention to his employee’s love lives, but as he reflected on the past decade of Nathalie working with him, he was filled with a dull horror. Never once had Nathalie left early when he still needed her. Never once had she shirked her duty when things got unexpectedly busy. She had had the flu once, and even then, she had only taken just enough time off to recover fully, and had run his entire life electronically all the while.

Her work had left him with plenty of time for his family, back when Emilie had still been there. But now that he was thinking it over, it couldn't possibly have left Nathalie with any time at all for a relationship of her own.

God. _Had_ he taken his personal assistant’s virginity?

He didn't remember all that much of the night he'd spent with her. Just flashes, coming to her door, the feeling of the bare skin of her hip under his hand, the press of her body against his, a memory of waking up in the morning in her bed with Nathalie tousle-haired and obviously exhausted beside him, the dark marks of a sleepless night under her eyes, the dark marks of love bites on her neck. He obviously hadn't been gentle with her that night, had obviously given free rein to every bit of reluctant and thoroughly repressed attraction he felt for her.

She had woken up as he was getting dressed, had agreed with him that obviously there was no need for them to ever mention this again. And in the two months since then, she’d done an admirable job of working with him as if nothing of the sort had ever happened. And he’d done the same, even though the sharp stab of guilt he now felt every time he looked at her had made him even more snappish with her than usual.

Gabriel put his stylus down with a sharp click and stumbled over to a chair, slumping back in it. Clearly his thoughts were too disordered for work. He absentmindedly fingered the brooch under his necktie, taking the pulse of the city around him. Another akuma would be a handy distraction just now, if he could just find the right person…

But nothing was standing out to him. Perhaps it was because his own emotional turmoil was too strong, washing out everyone else’s emotions in comparison.

Perhaps it was because he was starting to get tired. Tired of feeling the negative emotions of other people, tired of fighting, tired of _losing_ , again and again.

But Gabriel couldn’t give up. He had promised Emilie that he would find a way to cure her, and he would. Somehow. Whatever it took. He needed her.

Being a father had never come naturally to him, but Emilie had made it easy to pretend that it did. She had always made sure that he ate his meals with his family—or at least when she wasn’t off on a film shoot. And even then, Adrien would come and find him, pull him away from his studio when it was time for dinner.

When had Adrien given that up? Had it been during Emilie’s long sickness, as she slipped away from the world, bit by bit? Gabriel couldn’t remember, now.

He stood and returned to his workstation, noting the time displayed in the corner of the screen with a touch of chagrin. Nathalie must have gone home by now. Adrien would have eaten his supper hours ago, had most likely gone to bed.

Had he wished his son a happy birthday?

He shut his workstation down and left his studio, heading towards Adrien’s room. A light was still on, a promising sign.

Gabriel lifted his hand. He stood there, fist raised, hovering a bare inch above the surface of Adrien’s door for a full minute, willing himself to knock.

And then he sighed and and lowered his hand and left, heading towards his own bedroom instead.

Tomorrow. He would figure out how to begin again with his son tomorrow. One day more would not be the end of the world. After all, Adrien seemed to be doing just fine without Gabriel bumbling in and attempting to make small talk with his stranger of a son.

When had his son become a stranger?


	3. Chapter 3

Nathalie’s phone buzzed as she exited the gate of the Agreste mansion, and she pulled it out. She’d texted Nadja that afternoon, after her confrontation with Mr. Agreste; it had been a while since she and Nadja had had a chance to get together and catch up, but right now she really needed advice, and had added some urgency to her usual “Are you free for lunch this weekend?” text.

_Come over now. Bring dessert?_

Nathalie smiled. The main advantage of a friendship with one of the women in the city who was as busy as she was herself was that neither of them took last-minute excuses to duck out of a hang-out personally… because they knew that if the other person really needed them, they’d find a way to be there.

_Does Manon still like profiteroles?_

_She says to tell you to bring twice as many as last time._

_I don’t think she remembers how many I brought last time. Be there in ten._

Nathalie scrolled down her contacts and found the closest bakery, the one that most of the baked goods that weren’t produced by the Agreste Mansion’s own pastry chef came from. “I know you close in five minutes, but if you could have a dozen profiteroles ready for me, I’ll be in and out before you need to shut your door.”

“Of course, Nathalie.”

There were advantages to working for a wealthy man. Advantages she would definitely miss, if the pregnancy remained viable, if she decided to keep this child. Because she couldn’t imagine being a single mother—a single mother of Gabriel Agreste’s child, especially—and still having the time to work for the Agreste family. She had seen what having an absent mother and a barely-present father had done to Adrien. She would never do anything of the sort to her own child.

Of course, there would be the problem of finding a new job, but she could consider that later. After all, it was still early days, from the research she’d done. The pregnancy might end on its own.

Ten minutes later she was ensconced in Nadja’s apartment, with six profiteroles between the two of them and the other half-dozen in front of Manon, on a table in front of the tv where she was watching a cartoon.

“How have you been?”

“Busy. Well, with the whole superhero situation… The news has gotten a lot more exciting over the past few months.”

“How has Manon been coping with it?”

Nadja sighed and set down the profiterole she’d just picked up. “All right, I think? She’s been acting out more. I have a fairly reliable babysitter, and Manon likes her, but…” she sighed again. “I’m just hoping my pitch for a show of my own works. I don’t mind doing street reporting, but it takes a lot of time, and I could cut down on it if I had a show of my own.”

Nathalie studied her friend quietly as Nadja took a bite of the profiterole she’d been toying with. Was she up to this kind of balancing act herself? She didn’t know.

“How about you? How have you been doing?” Nadja asked into the silence.

Nathalie glanced over at Manon before answering. Good. The girl was still enthralled by the cartoon, though it appeared that the pile of profiteroles had already disappeared. “Pregnant,” Nathalie said.

“Oh.” Nadja blinked in surprised. “ _Oh._ So I suppose that’s why you wanted to talk, then.”

Nathalie nodded.

“I take it the father…?”

Nathalie raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking as a friend, or are you digging for a story?”

Nadja looked offended. “As a friend. Though you do work for a wealthy, high-profile, _reclusive_ man who has only ever appeared in public since his wife disappeared with _you_ at his side, so I’m warning you, people are going to make assumptions when you start showing.”

That hadn’t occurred to Nathalie. “The father’s not in the picture,” she said abruptly. “I’m not even certain if I want to…” she placed her hand over her stomach.

Nadja nodded. “That’s understandable. I wouldn’t give Manon up for the world, but, well, you’re not me. I always wanted to be a mother, and you…”

“I always rolled my eyes at you every time you said that, I remember.” Nathalie sighed. “But somehow the choice isn’t quite so easy, now that it’s actually mine to make. On the one hand, I’d have to find a new job, to… to completely rearrange my life, and that’s not a simple thing to contemplate, but on the other…”

Nadja was looking at her solemnly. “You feel like you’re in a rut, don’t you? And like this would be a good way for you to start over, completely. Find a new you.”

Nathalie opened her mouth to protest, but sighed again instead. “I don’t dislike the me I am. But I’m not sure I fit in this space any more.”

Nadja nodded. “Having a child will change your life. For the better, hopefully, though I can’t promise that. But it’s a lot of work, having another person completely dependent on you.”

Nathalie laughed. “A subtle hint that maybe I ought to try finding a new job instead of giving birth if I want to make some changes in my life?”

“Something like that.”

“Well.” Nathalie picked up one of the profiteroles and considered it. “I’ve got some time. And I’m not far enough along… it might end on its own, you know.”

Nadja nodded. She’d tried three times before Manon. “For what it’s worth, I think you would be a great mother.”

Nathalie froze with the profiterole halfway to her mouth. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“Are you guys going to eat the rest of those?” Manon appeared at the edge of the kitchen table, peering up over it at the four remaining profiteroles.

“You are going to wake up tonight with a stomachache,” Nadja said affectionately, reaching out and hugging Manon to her side.

Manon looked up at her mother with wide, pleading eyes. “I think I can fit one more in before I get a stomachache,” she said.

Nadja laughed, and selected the smallest of the four remaining desserts. “Here you go, little monkey. Back to your cartoon.”

Nathalie watched mother and child interact with her heart in her throat. Oh. Oh, she wanted that, that casual affection, that unconditional love. It would change her entire life, probably for the worse, but it wouldn’t matter if she could give her child that. Even if it was difficult, even if her own parents hadn’t exactly given her a good example to follow.

Some part of her had stubbornly decided to keep the child when she’d been face to face with Mr. Agreste, when she’d realized what a mistake it was to tell him. To throw it in his face, that even someone so unsuited to be a parent as herself could do a better job than him, that all it took was a willingness to try. But until just now, as she watched Manon cuddle up against Nadja for a moment, as she watched Nadja tease her daughter until Manon giggled and ran back to her station in front of the tv, Nathalie hadn’t realized that she wanted to have a child because she actually wanted to be a parent.

Nadja smiled when she looked back at Nathalie. “You look like you’ve just made a decision.”

Nathalie placed a hand over her stomach protectively and nodded. “If nothing happens… I’m going to make it work, that’s all. I want…” She wanted a family, she realized. Between her own fragmented childhood and her years spent with the Agreste family, she’d seen so many examples of how to do it wrong. She wanted to do it right, not just for her child but for herself.

Nadja lifted one of the remaining profiteroles in a mock toast. “Well, then, cheers to that. And if you need advice, I’m always here.”

“A good doctor would be a start.”

“I think I can find you one of those.”

Nathalie left Nadja’s apartment that evening with a glow of certainty… and a recommendation for the practice that still took care of Manon’s pediatric care.

She would make this work.


	4. Chapter 4

Nathalie usually came to Gabriel’s office first thing in the morning to go over his schedule with him, but this morning he didn't think he could face her. Instead, he hid in the lair he used for his time spent as Hawk Moth until he could be sure that she would have moved on to Adrien and his schedule.

Not his most dignified moment, Gabriel supposed, but he thought he was probably beyond dignity where Nathalie was concerned, at least at the moment.

He had considered hiding in the cathedral room that held Emilie, but facing his wife, even with her in a magical coma, was also beyond him this morning. After all, it was him forgetting, for a short time, the devotion he owed Emilie that had gotten him into this mess.

 _Not just that_ , he reminded himself.

Truth was, he had been lonely. He was beginning to realize that he hadn't just lost Emilie as she had slipped away from him into her magical sleep. Somewhere along the way, he had lost his son as well. And the cutthroat world of fashion was not always the safest place to try and make friends. Acquaintances, yes, but not friends.

There was the soft flutter of wings, and Nooroo was suddenly hovering at his shoulder. “Is something wrong, master?”

Gabriel felt like laughing and crying, all at once. Here his closest confidant was, a kwami he had enslaved, a creature who was forced by circumstance to listen to him. Just like everyone else who surrounded him. Adrien only listened to him because Gabriel was his father. Nathalie and everyone else under his employ only paid attention to him because he was paying them.

And Nooroo only paid attention to Gabriel because he gave the kwami no other choice.

Gabriel made a choked noise halfway between a sob and a scream of laughter and tore the Miraculous away from where it was pinned at his throat. There was a soft pop as the kwami disappeared back into the jewel and Gabriel fumbled the jewelry box he stored the pin in out of his pocket and put it safely away.

One day. He could go one day without being able to touch the emotions of everyone around him, without seeking out the darkest feelings that humanity had to offer.

Gabriel felt unbalanced without the jewel at his throat, but he pushed through the feeling, enough to return to his office and place the gem in the safe behind the painting of Emilie.

His son. Perhaps… perhaps Adrien had not yet left for school.

No. By the time he made it to the top of the stairs, the front door was just closing behind Adrien. Nathalie turned and caught sight of him, and Gabriel clung to what remaining dignity he had and somehow didn’t give in to the urge to turn and flee back towards his office.

“Mr. Agreste. Were you looking for me?”

“You haven’t gone over my schedule yet.”

“You weren’t in your office this morning.” Nathalie’s tone wasn’t accusatory, but he heard it that way anyway. “And you do have access to your own calendar, sir.” Now that was definitely accusatory.

He waited at the top of the stairs until she had almost reached him and turned to precede her into his office. “I remember it better when you remind me.”

“Is that so.” She took up station at the corner of his desk and looked down at the tablet she was holding. “You have an e-meeting in fifteen minutes with the organizers in Milan. After that, you have ad proofs to review, then at noon you have a lunch…”

Gabriel allowed Nathalie’s words to wash over him. He noted meeting times in the back of his head as he did, but one advantage of the recluse he’d become was that no one cared when he ultimately teleconferenced in to every meeting, whether it was possible for him to attend in person or not. And his workstation provided him with regular alerts on his calendar, so it wasn’t as if he needed Nathalie to read his schedule off to him.

He just liked the sound of her voice, as dry and factual as it always was when she was giving him his schedule for the day.

“And, since the chef tells me you never requested dinner last night, and I know you never remember breakfast, he’ll be sending something up.” And you had better eat it, was the unspoken warning he heard in her voice.

Gabriel forced his attention back to the moment at hand. “Thank you, Nathalie.”

She nodded and turned to leave, and he tried to call her back. He needed to talk to her. He needed to find out what she was planning to do, to offer her whatever assistance she would accept.

“Nathalie?”

“Ten minutes until your meeting, sir,” she said over her shoulder as she left his office.

A runner from the kitchen—he didn’t even know the man’s name, Gabriel realized—appeared a few minutes later with breakfast: rolls and preserves, a selection of cheeses, a fruit salad, coffee and hot chocolate. And then, he was left to himself, as he had demanded to be so many times over the past year.

God, he was _lonely._

He only made it to lunch before removing the Miraculous from the safe again. 

After all, an enslaved kwami as a companion was better than being alone.


	5. Chapter 5

It was a petty revenge to take, Nathalie reflected as she dodged every attempt Mr. Agreste took to have a private conversation with her that day, but oh, was it a sweet one. After all, she deserved some revenge after the cowardly way Mr. Agreste had behaved, both the day before and this morning—and two months ago, if she was being honest with herself, when he’d extracted a promise from her not to talk about the night he’d spent in her bed—and this revenge was so easily within her grasp. She knew his schedule even better than he did, and even with a pregnancy-induced brain fog impairing her functionality, it was more than simple enough to always be in the middle of some call vital to the ongoing existence of Gabriel the brand whenever Gabriel the person had a few spare minutes to come looking for her.

Yes, it definitely was petty, but damn it felt good.

Of course now she was paying for it, she realized as she peered through the peephole in her apartment door and realized it was Mr. Agreste who had just knocked. She hadn't expected him to take so drastic a step.

She kept the chain up as she opened the door, kept her personal assistant persona on as she spoke. “Did I forget something, sir?”

Mr. Agreste gave her a frazzled look. “You know perfectly well why I'm here, Nathalie. Now open this damn door!”

“If you need to talk with me, you can make an appointment, like everyone else.” And then, Nathalie shut the door in Mr. Agreste’s face, feeling self-satisfied, and ignored his further knocks as she finished off her nightly routine. By the time she finished brushing her teeth she thought he'd given up and left.

A loud thud on her balcony as she was clambering in to bed disabused her of this notion. She slid back out of bed and made a dash back into her living room to find Hawk Moth standing on her balcony, glaring through the plate-glass door at her. She let out an involuntary cry of dismay and opened the door, grabbing him by the sleeve and pulling him inside.

“What are you _doing_?” She hissed angrily at him. She stepped out on her balcony for a moment and glanced down at the street below, then across at the balconies of her neighbors. No one was staring or had set up an alarm, but…

Hawk Moth’s arms wrapped around her middle and yanked her back into her apartment, an even more foolhardy move than the one he'd just pulled. “If this is the only way to get a moment alone with you…” he growled against her ear as he shut the door with one hand, holding her tight against his body with the other.

“That was stupid,” she said weakly. All of a sudden, she was afraid. Easy enough to take petty revenge on her boss when he was just Gabriel Agreste, fashion icon. But somehow, she'd forgotten that he was also Hawk Moth, supervillain extraordinaire.

He released her suddenly and backed away from her, to the opposite side of her living room. “Nooroo, dark wings fall.” There was a flash of light, a flash of purple as the small creature she had only ever seen glimpses of hid. And then Mr. Agreste held up a disarming hand in her direction. “I'm sorry, Nathalie. I didn't mean to frighten you.”

“It’s fine.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her silky pajamas, all too aware suddenly that they did very little to hide the fact that she didn't wear anything under them, for all they were modestly cut. “I'm going to get my robe.”

“Of course.”

Nathalie paused in her bedroom for a moment, trying to calm herself. It was bad enough seeing him in her apartment again after what had happened the last time he'd been there. It was temptation and terror all at once to have him there again.

After all, she knew what he looked like naked, knew a surprising amount, given the single night they'd spent together, about what drove him wild in bed. It had been hard enough remembering to call him Mr. Agreste after one night like that. Another would have him become Gabriel in her mind for good.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Just pregnancy hormones, clouding her judgement. Nadja had warned her about that.

She tied her robe tightly around her middle and returned to the living room. Mr. Agreste had shoved himself into a corner of her couch, apparently trying to take up as little space as possible, hunched forward, with his forearms resting on his knees and his hands clenched tightly around one another. He looked up at her, anxiety written in every line of his face.

The dignified and collected fashion designer was as much a persona as the perfect personal assistant self she put on each day, she knew that. But just at the moment it struck her, how different the two were.

Gabriel Agreste the person put on dignity and coldness like a shield because he did not know how to function without them in place. But when the shield was down…

“Nathalie. I… have not treated you well.”

An auspicious beginning. Nathalie wanted to snort with laughter and roll her eyes. Instead she wedged herself into the opposite corner of her couch and tucked her robe even tighter around herself before responding. “No. You haven’t.”

“I should not have been so insistent that we not talk about… about what happened. Between us, I mean.” He cleared his throat and turned his gaze back to his hands, the hunch of his shoulders becoming more pronounced. “Did I…” A muscle twitched in his jaw, and he sighed. “Was I your first, Nathalie?”

Nathalie did laugh at that, and he looked back at her, startled and, she thought, perhaps a little bit offended. “You really don’t remember much of what happened that night if you think you were my first, sir,” she said drily once she got her laughter back under control. Another snort of it escaped her, all the same. “My first. Really. I’m _thirty_ - _four_ , sir. I’ve had my fun, believe me.”

“That’s a… a relief,” he managed, though the offended expression remained on his face.

“You were really worried about that?” Nathalie studied him with a frown.

“What you said yesterday… about me being the only man…”

“In a while. A couple of years. There have been plenty of women.”

He shot her another startled look.

“And that’s a little bit more than my boss needs to know about my sex life, I think.” Nathalie found she was mirroring his posture unconsciously, found her gaze drifting down to the hands she’d clenched together in her lap.

They sat there in silence for a few long minutes before Mr. Agreste opened up the conversation again.

“What do you need from me, Nathalie?”

She considered quietly for a minute more, and he waited patiently. “I was going to say nothing, but that’s not true. I…” She looked up from her lap, met his eye. “I need your word that you’ll give me a good reference. I’m going to be looking for a new job. I don’t think… I’ve been with you for more than a decade, sir, and it’s shaped my life, in good ways, mostly, but also…” She sighed. “I need a change. Being around you, day in and day out, has lead to some unhealthy patterns for me, I think. I need…”

“You need to leave me.” Gabriel’s voice sounded bereft. No, not Gabriel, she reminded herself, Mr. Agreste. “You need to leave Adrien?”

Ah, unfair of the man, bringing his son into it. When she’d been Adrien’s tutor, his coach, the closest thing he’d had to a mother in his life since his own mother had disappeared. “I think I have to. There’s no other way this works. Not unless…” She stared intently at him, trying to tell him without words what she needed. Not unless he was willing to go all the way, to give up on Emilie ever returning.

“I’ll make sure you have the reference you need,” he said, hoarsely. “And… money?”

“No. After all, how would you ever explain that if…” If he really did find a way to bring Emilie back, one of these days. “I have plenty of savings.”

Mr. Agreste let out a harsh little laugh. “You certainly don’t spend your salary on clothing. I’ll have to replace you with someone just a little bit more fashionable.”

“You do that, sir.”

He stood abruptly, and, without another word, went to her door, unlocked it, and left.

Nathalie sat on her couch for a long time after he was gone, unwilling tears leaking out of her eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *flings short chapter of Gabriel being emo into the void*

He had been foolish, to go to Nathalie’s apartment like that. But Gabriel hadn’t been thinking. He had simply wanted to be near her, had wanted to… he didn’t know what he had wanted to do.

It had been a thrill, those few moments he had held her in his arms until he had felt her fear, pounding harsh and thick through her body. It had been...

What the hell was he doing, thinking about Nathalie like this? He was a married man. He was…

Gabriel paced his office, every nerve strung tight. He was lusting after his assistant, that’s what he was doing. Lusting after her and hating himself for it.

He flung himself into a chair and slumped backwards, removing his glasses and rubbing his free hand over his face. Maybe it wasn’t Nathalie that he was lusting after. Oh, he was attracted to her, no doubt about that, but that had nothing to do with the true allure of what she represented.

Family.

A chance to do this all over again, and to do it right this time. To have a family that was whole again.

But Nathalie was not Emilie, and it was not fair of him to project the way he was missing the way his wife had made their family whole onto her.

A damning realization, that. Was that what had drawn him to Nathalie that night? The sense that he was incomplete without his wife, and Nathalie’s devotion to him would do?

No.

No, it had been sheer drunken lust that had brought him to Nathalie that night, he was sure of it. Lust and despair and alcohol. A potent combination at the best of times, and at the worst… At the worst he forced his damn way into his assistant’s apartment and impregnated her.

He wished he could remember how that night had gone. Perhaps it would explain why she wanted to leave him now.

Gabriel let out a harsh at that thought. Did she really need a reason to leave? She had stepped in adeptly when Emilie had first taken ill, taking over more and more of the day-to-day business of keeping his company running… and putting in the extra hours such work made necessary. And, when Gabriel had not been able to face the world after Emilie had slipped beyond his grasp, Nathalie had kept doing it, and had seen to Adrien besides. By now she was probably teetering on the edge of burnout, and would no doubt have plenty of reasons to hate him and want to get far, far away from him.

She had a hell of a work ethic, he had to give her that. To keep up with everything he relied on her for, everything Adrien relied on her for…

Adrien. He needed to talk to Adrien.

He needed to sleep.

He needed…

The next thing he was aware of was Nathalie shaking him by the shoulder and handing him his glasses. “Thank goodness for plastic lenses and anti-scratch coatings,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice. “These were on the floor, sir.”

“Thank you, Nathalie.” Gabriel slid his glasses on and tried to sit up. He winced. “Oh.”

“Yes. That does happen when you fall asleep in a chair.”

“Adrien is off to school?”

“Almost an hour ago.”

“I see.”

There was a moment of silence where he could not bear to look at Nathalie, though he could feel her, standing at attention next to the chair.

“Would you let me know when he returns for lunch? I’d like to eat with him,” Gabriel said finally.

There was a small sound from Nathalie—not quite a gasp, but a startled inhalation of breath—but her voice was even and calm when she responded. “Of course, sir.”

“I don’t have any meetings?”

“Not until this afternoon.”

“Very well. That will be all.” He glanced up at her finally and took in her calm, serious expression. “Thank you, Nathalie.”

She inclined her head a bare inch. “You’re welcome, sir.” And then she left his office without looking back.

Hard to believe that the difficult conversation he remembered from the night before had happened. Hard to believe that he had held her in his arms, and she had been so warm and soft and perfect in them for the moment before he had realized that she was terrified of him.

Hard to believe that he was going to let her go.

But he was. Because there was nothing else he could give her.


	7. Chapter 7

It had taken less time than Nathalie had expected to put things in place for the transition. Within a month, Gabriel had hired a new personal assistant, and, when it became clear that a single person would not be enough to keep on top of everything that Nathalie did for the Agreste family and the Gabriel brand, that assistant got an assistant, and Adrien got a personal assistant of his own. It was as if Mr. Agreste wanted her gone as quickly as possible.

And everyone, simply everyone had wanted to hire Nathalie. She didn’t know whether it was because she had established a reputation in the fashion industry for being a hardass who got things done, or if they wanted to feel as if they were pulling a fast one on Gabriel Agreste, but she had job offers galore to choose from.

Problem was, she didn’t really want any of them.

It was Adrien who made it hard. Adrien, who looked at her with big, anxious eyes every time he saw her, Adrien, who made her promise twenty times and then twenty more that she would come see him sometimes. Adrien, who didn’t deserve her abandoning him too.

But she couldn’t stay. Not even for Adrien.

Perhaps it would be better if she left Paris entirely—given that the rate of akuma attacks had increased over the past month, it would certainly be safer—but she couldn’t bring herself to do that, either. Not with Adrien needing someone to care about him, even if her ability to care for him was tempered by the fact that she was technically his employee too.

Well. She needed to speak with Mr. Agreste anyway. Might as well remind the man that his son needed him. There was no breaking news about an akuma attack, so he might actually be in his office the way his schedule said he was supposed to be.

She knocked on his office door and entered without waiting for a response. “Sir.”

“Nathalie.” The look he gave her was unreadable, though his eyebrows shot up in surprise when she closed and locked the door of his office behind her.

“We need to talk.”

“I don't have time for that right now. If I'm going to finish these designs in time to complete the construction for the show in two weeks—”

“And whose fault is it that you're behind in your work?” Nathalie was suddenly furious. “There have been daily akuma attacks for the past month,” she hissed in a low voice, crossing the room to stand by his desk. She slammed her hands down on it. “You haven't been discovered yet only because I've been here to cover for you. But what do you expect to happen when I'm gone, hm? Do you think your new assistants will just blithely ignore the fact that you're not actually in your office most of the time you say you are?”

Mr. Agreste looked just a little bit terrified of her. “I will, of course, be more careful once you're gone—”

“Will you? Because from my point of view, this is starting to look like a damn compulsion.”

“Of course it’s not.” He had drawn himself back together, the picture of assured arrogance. “But if I only have the short time until you leave to work unhindered at my task, then I must take that time.”

“And what about Adrien?”

She had startled him again. “What about Adrien?”

“He's having a hard enough time, knowing I'll be gone in a couple of weeks. But you've stopped even pretending that you give a damn about him.” Even that day she had come across Mr. Agreste asleep in a chair in his office, when he had asked her to let him know when his son got home for lunch, he had disappeared into his lair the entire afternoon and hadn't been there when she had returned to his office to tell him.

Her accusation had obviously made him angry. “Everything I am doing is for Adrien. All of this! Do you think I enjoy what I'm doing to this city? Do you think I enjoy having to set my son’s current needs to the side to ensure a better future for him?”

“I think you enjoy the power that being Hawk Moth gives you,” Nathalie responded in a cold voice. “And as far as Adrien goes? You don't seem to care enough about him to know what he really needs.” She was tired, suddenly. “Now, if you don't mind, I've got work of my own to do.” She turned abruptly away and made for the door.

“Nathalie…” Mr. Agreste’s voice was plaintive.

She turned back to him, and studied his face. There was something unguarded about his expression in that moment, and some small part of her ached for him. But the rest of her was still full of righteous indignation and fury, and so she shoved that small part of herself down. “I'm not your therapist, sir. Whatever it is you need to work out, I'm not here to do it for you. And I’m not going to enable this… this nonsense any more. I'm done. I know I said I was going to work another two weeks, but I can't do that any more, not if you're using me as an excuse.”

He looked desperate at that, and stood up halfway from his desk, reaching for her as if he could touch her in spite of the space between them. “Nathalie, please…”

“No.” She turned away from him again. “Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go say goodbye to Adrien. I know how you feel about people who aren't employees interacting with him.”

A flick of the lock, and then she was gone from Mr. Agreste’s office.

He did not follow after her.

Adrien was in his room, mindlessly playing scales on the piano. He had a glazed, vacant look in his eyes, and his performance was lackluster.

He did not even notice Nathalie enter the room.

“Adrien.”

He looked up at her, those wide, hurt eyes of his making her feel guilty for leaving all over again. “Nathalie. Is it time for fencing practice already? I lost track of the time.”

Nathalie shook her head. “No. And you know that Joan will be seeing to your schedule from now on.” The young woman was quietly efficient in a way that Nathalie appreciated, though she had not yet learned to love Adrien the way that Nathalie did. But that would come in time, no doubt. Adrien was too sweet and kind and open for anything else.

“I see.” Adrien stared blankly at the sheet music in front of him. “You're leaving, aren't you. Today.” His voice sounded choked, as if he were about to cry.

“Yes. I wanted to…”

Tears started pouring down Adrien’s cheeks, and Nathalie gave in to the urge to sit down on the piano bench next to him. She pulled him against her side with one arm and held him close, offering him a handkerchief with her free hand. He took it from her and buried his face in it, sobbing, and she held him closer. “I will see you when I can, Adrien. I promise.”

“Will father even allow it?” He sobbed into the handkerchief.

“I don't care if he does or not.” A foolhardy thing to say. “You have my number, and you can text me whenever you need to. And there are always video chats.”

“It won't be the same.”

“Things change. We have to change with them. It’s life, Adrien.”

There was a small noise from across the room, barely heard over the sound of Adrien, who was still snuffling into his handkerchief. Nathalie glanced up just in time to see the door closing on a familiar face with its head of silvery blond hair.

Well.

Perhaps Mr. Agreste cared a little.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another time skip, because I was getting bogged down in trying to write the intervening months where they do not see each other at all.

It was almost two months before Gabriel saw her again.

He had been doing his best to avoid her. He thought she would appreciate that. He hoped she would, at least. But Fashion Week was one event he couldn’t quite get away with hiding away in his mansion for, and with Nathalie still working in the world of fashion, running into her had been almost inevitable.

Or at least that was what he told himself when he caught sight of her sitting backstage, obviously taking a break in a secluded corner between shows.

She was starting to show. He didn't think it would have been visible to anyone else—certainly not to anyone who didn't know what they were looking for—but it was all too obvious to him. Her jacket no longer sat right; her trousers were just a little too tight around the hips.

She looked up and noticed him. For a moment he thought that she was going to ignore him—give him the cut direct, as they would have said at the start of last century—but instead she inclined her head in his direction, a bare acknowledgement of his presence. He took it as an invitation to approach.

“Nathalie.”

She inclined her head again. “Mr. Agreste.”

“Surely you can call me Gabriel now.” He wanted to hear her say his name, though he was unwilling to examine the reason why.

She hesitated.

“Please. I want… I would like to…” he sighed. “Could we not be friends?”

“That’s not an easy thing to ask, sir.” Her voice was steady, but her caution showed in the set of her eyebrows.

“Sir is even worse.” Gabriel sighed. “Never mind. How is… how is the new job?” He had been about to ask how the pregnancy was progressing and had only just been able to stop himself.

Nathalie seemed to hear the question he had not asked out loud, had placed her hand protectively over her stomach as he spoke. “Good. I have an assistant of my own now. It’s very… relaxing.”

“I’m glad.” He stared at her, drinking the sight of her in. He hadn’t expected to miss her the way he had. Hadn’t realized he had been missing her until he had seen her from across the room and a sudden, intense longing to be at her side had drawn him to her like a moth to a flame.

“I’m surprised Hawk Moth hasn’t taken advantage of the emotional furor of this event,” Nathalie said, her voice carefully bland.

“It seems he’s gone into a brief retirement,” Gabriel responded. It had been weeks since he had last summoned an akuma. He could pretend that it was just the extra work in the lead-up to Fashion Week that had kept him too busy for his other occupation... but claiming such a thing would be a lie, because in spite of his busy schedule, he still wore the butterfly miraculous daily, still reached for it out of habit. No, it was something else that stayed his hand these days. “I’m glad of it. An akuma attack took out part of the mansion.”

Nathalie frowned at that. “I didn’t see that in the news. Was Adrien safe?”

“He was at school when it happened. It was at the back of the house. The wing my office is in.” He had managed, just barely, to keep reports of it out of the news, but he wouldn’t be able to get the memory of his son screaming frantically for him and scrabbling at his locked office door after the attack had ended out of his memory any time soon. And Adrien’s face... “I think he misses you,” Gabriel said, forcing his mind off that day.

“Is it all right?” Nathalie asked anxiously. “If I call him, that is. Or if I... maybe I could take him to dinner?”

“Perhaps once he’s no longer grounded.”

“Grounded?”

“He’s been acting out.” It had come out that Adrien had been slipping away from his schedule of activities with disturbing frequency to do... well, Gabriel had yet to figure out what Adrien had been doing, and given the state of his relationship with his son, he hadn’t quite been able to blame the boy for keeping quiet. Unfortunately, the meals together that Gabriel had, for once, prioritized since then had done little to ease Adrien’s caution enough for him to want to confide in Gabriel, but at least he had stopped disappearing when he was meant to be doing other things.

“I don’t know if you remember being a teenager, but I’m not surprised. He was due for a bit of acting out.” Nathalie said, a low murmur of suppressed amusement transforming her voice. Had she ever been amused by him before? He didn’t know.

“I never acted out,” Gabriel muttered.

There. She definitely looked as if she were suppressing a smile. “Ah, yes. Gabriel Agreste, paragon among men, even at the age of fourteen.” The undercurrent of humor was even stronger now. Was she teasing him?

He felt a smile of his own twitch at the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps I had purple hair for a day. But such displays were affronts to the dignity of the Agreste family.”

Nathalie looked as if she were about to ask him for more information when the open backstage area they were occupying was suddenly flooded by a mixed crowd of stylists and models, obviously rushing to get started on preparations for the next show. Nathalie let out a startled little laugh and got to her feet, heading after them, calling a wry “Back to the grind!” over her shoulder at him.

The smile she had left him with stayed on his face all the way through the show.

It was only afterwards that he realized he hadn’t reached for his miraculous once the entire afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A quick drawing of Gabriel Agreste's teenaged rebellion.](https://madstuart.tumblr.com/post/187939878503/i-wrote-an-allusion-to-gabriel-agreste-having)


	9. Chapter 9

“Nathalie?”

She tried not to flinch at the sound of her name said in that particular voice, and thought she mostly achieved it. She had made it through the rest of Fashion Week without seeing him any closer than at a distance, and having him close by again was more than a little discomfiting. “Mr. Agreste.”

“Gabriel, please.” He offered up a hesitant smile, surprisingly charming, as she turned his direction. “Nathalie... what you said earlier this week. About seeing Adrien. Do you...” She watched as the charm melted away, replaced with a formal stiffness. “Would you accept an invitation to dine with us this evening?”

She retreated into a formal stiffness of her own. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Then just with Adrien. Please.” He swallowed hard, and the hesitance—and the strange charm it leant his features—returned. “I can’t get him to talk to me. And I’m worried...”

“You want me to spy on your son for you,” Nathalie said, feeling a dull lack of surprise.

“No!” His response was remarkably vehement. “If he’s in some trouble, I would, of course, like to know, but...” He sighed. “He doesn’t trust me. I think he trusts you. And he should have at least one adult in his life who he can trust.”

Damn the man. “I’ll have dinner with Adrien.”

Gabriel didn’t quite smile, but his face lit up all the same. “Thank you.”

Adrien was distressingly happy to see her. He flung himself at her, wrapping her in an exuberant hug that was startling not just in its warmth, but also due to the fact that he had shot up two inches since she had last seen him.

“Adrien.”

“Nathalie. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Coming to dinner.”

She inclined her head slightly at him, smiling. “Your father invited me.”

“But he’s not here.”

“I asked if I could have dinner with just you.”

The mix of feelings on Adrien’s face was heartbreaking. Relief and anger, mostly.

“Let’s go out,” she said impulsively.

“Dinner’s all ready...”

“For dessert, then. Ice cream or pastries or... or something. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind as long as we brought your bodyguard along.”

Adrien smiled. “I know a bakery that does the best macarons.”

“We’ll go there, then.”

She kept the conversation light over dinner—it was clear that Adrien was still going to public school, and still loving it, though chafing at the bit with the new restrictions his father had put on him to keep track of his time. But he had friends, and it was clear that he needed that.

She just needed to make sure that none of his friends were leading him astray. To what, she wasn’t entirely certain.

But by the time they were in the car, on their way to the bakery Adrien had suggested, he seemed to have run out of words.

“How did you find this place?” Nathalie asked carefully.

“It’s owned by the parents of one of my friends. From school,” Adrien responded. The car came to a halt and he opened the door immediately, sliding out before his bodyguard could take his usual protective stance at Adrien’s side. “Come on.”

Nathalie raised her eyebrows and followed.

Adrien had been right. The Dupain-Chengs made exquisite macarons. And exquisite everything else; at this stage in her pregnancy Nathalie had started craving sweet things with an alarming frequency, and the pastries that still remained in the shop this late in the day all looked good.

“How much for one of everything?”

Sabine smiled. “It’s the end of the day and most of these will go in our pantry if I don’t move them. Half price. And I remember how it was with my daughter.”

Nathalie cast a confused look Adrien’s way. “He’s not my...”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought...” she gestured at Nathalie’s midsection. “It was horrible of me to make assumptions.”

She was barely starting to show. “It was a correct one. I just didn’t realize...”

“What are you two talking about?” Adrien cut in.

“Nothing!” both women said simultaneously.

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Girl stuff?”

Nathalie let out a crack of laughter she couldn’t quite help. “Yes. Girl stuff.”

Adrien made a face and turned to Sabine. “Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, is Marinette home? I wanted to say hi.”

“I’m sorry, she’s out with Alya. I think they’re at the library, working on a school project. I could tell her you asked about her though...?” Sabine trailed off, obviously fishing for his name.

“Adrien. Agreste. Adrien Agreste,” he said, stammering a little over his own name.

“Oh! Yes. I will definitely tell Marinette you stopped by.”

Tom had been moving around the bakery, gathering up one of everything for Nathalie, along with a selection of macarons for Adrien, but this got his attention. “Oh, you’re Adrien? She talks about you all the time, you know.”

Adrien turned bright red at this. “I didn’t know,” he said in a high, squeaky voice. “She does?”

“Oh, yes. And she has your ads up all over her bedroom.”

“Tom, please. She likes his father’s fashion line. It’s got nothing to do with the boy,” Sabine interjected.

“Let me just pay for those,” Nathalie added smoothly, accepting two white boxes from Tom.

“I’m just saying, if he’s not interested in our Marinette, he’s a fool,” Nathalie overheard Tom saying as they left the bakery.

Adrien’s face remained bright red for a good deal of the car ride back to the Agreste Mansion. Nathalie chose not to comment.

“I should... probably go do my homework now,” Adrien said awkwardly once they were back in the foyer of his home. “Did you want a macaron before I go?” He held up his white box.

“I think Mr. Dupain-Cheng put a few in my box,” Nathalie said, smiling. “We should go there again. That was... interesting.”

Adrien’s face, which had returned to a normal color during the car ride, turned bright red again. “Right yes gotta go do my homework,” he squeaked, and then turned and almost ran from her, followed at a sedate pace by his bodyguard.

Nathalie waited a few moments, and then glanced upwards. As she had expected, Mr. Agreste had appeared at the top of the stairs. He nodded at her, a curt summoning that he had used so often when she had been working for him, before turning in the direction of his office without looking back. Nathalie almost left at that—even now, the man expected her to follow after him without question, and that just would not do—but instead she made her way up the stairs, pastry box in hand.

He was waiting just inside the door of his office, an anxious expression on his face, and he closed the door and ushered her over to a pair of well-cushioned chairs. Well. That was new. She had expected him to be standing behind his desk, enthroned like a cold and distant god.

“Did he say anything?”

“Have a pastry,” Nathalie said instead, opening her white box and offering the contents to Mr. Agreste. He looked down at them with a frown and absentmindedly selected a croissant.

“Where did these come from?”

“The Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie,” Nathalie answered, fishing out a Pain au Chocolat for herself.

He took a bite of the croissant without actually looking at it... and then his eyes fell shut, a blissful expression on his face. “Oh my god.”

Nathalie tore a chunk off her own pastry and popped it in her mouth. Oh my god indeed. Even the better part of the day after it must have been baked, the pastry was light and flaky and melt-in-your-mouth delicious, with the perfect amount of bittersweet chocolate offsetting the butteryness of the pastry.

Mr. Agreste had already devoured the rest of the croissant and was eying her box of pastries with some avarice. Nathalie closed it, suddenly on the defensive.

“Did you remember to eat dinner?”

A sudden, guilty look flashed across his face. “I worked through it.”

“Sir,” Nathalie said chidingly.

“How many times must I ask you to call me Gabriel?” he asked, reaching out and placing his hand gently on her forearm.

She swallowed hard. “I think Adrien might have a girlfriend,” she said, breaking the tension of the moment.

Watching those words impact on Gabriel’s brain as he instinctively withdrew from her was a picture. Confusion, distress, more confusion...

“He’s... he’s not old enough for a girlfriend. Is he?”

“He’s certainly old enough to start thinking about it. The name Marinette Dupain-Cheng ring any bells?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No, I... wait. She won that design contest, didn’t she? At Adrien’s school.”

It had been one of the last things Nathalie had taken care of as Gabriel’s PA. Escorting the tablet he used for personal appearances these days around the judging. “I think so.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t think it’s anything serious. Her parents hadn’t met him.”

“This Tom and Sabine?” Gabriel asked, tapping the top of the pastry box.

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to look into her.”

Nathalie saw how it would go. Gabriel wasn’t exactly subtle, and no doubt if there was anything wrong with the girl, his reaction would be over the top and unnecessary and drive the two teenagers closer together. “Let me. I like Sabine Dupain-Cheng. And these are good pastries. I could always use an excuse to pick up more.”

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, and she could see him doing the same mental math she had done. “Very well,” he said grudgingly. “You will let me know?”

“I will.” She opened the pastry box again. “One more, if you promise to eat dinner after I’m gone.”

An eclair disappeared from the box and into Gabriel’s mouth in two bites almost before she finished speaking.


	10. Chapter 10

Gabriel was not going to interfere in Nathalie’s attempts at finding out more about his son’s friends. He really wasn’t.

It was just that those pastries had been so damn good.

And perhaps, just a bit, it had been the longing look that Nooroo had been eying the box with from behind Nathalie’s head. He had given the kwami more leeway over the past month, simply because without Hawk Moth to distract him—and despite the fact that he was eating meals with Adrien regularly now—he was feeling his loneliness even more strongly than before. Nearly two years now of conducting most of his business by electronic meetings, and now people had simply come to expect it and no longer bothered to do anything but tell him—or rather, his new personal assistant, Elanor—how to connect to conference calls. He had no idea how to get invited to actual meetings once more. Even staying on site at Fashion Week for longer hours than he usually would have had done little to change this, at least in the short term. Gabriel just had to hope that the extra hours he had spent on site had signaled that he was finally ready to set aside his reclusive life and go out into the world again.

And until then... well, Nooroo wasn’t much, but he was a companion, and companionship ought to be rewarded with fancy pastries.

That was why he found himself in front of the Tom and Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie two weeks later. Nothing to do with the fact that the daughter of the owners might be dating his son. Nothing to do with the fact that Nathalie had given him little more than a text that said “She seems like a nice girl,” over the weeks since she had agreed to look into Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Nothing at all to do with the fact that Nathalie might be in there.

He almost didn’t go in, at that thought. Not that he didn’t want to see Nathalie, but because he did, and the intense yearning that he felt when he imagined walking in those doors and finding her there left him glued to his car seat, unable to move.

“Sir?” Elanor glanced in the rearview mirror at him. “You only have half an hour before your conference call with the merchandiser…”

“Just a moment,” he forced out, unbuckling his seatbelt with numb fingers.

He hadn’t noticed through the tint of the car windows, but when he got to his feet outside of the car, he could see that the shop was completely empty. He almost ground to a halt once more—surely that meant the place was closed, despite the sign on the door?—but forced himself to try the doorknob. The door swung open and a bell echoed loudly in the empty shop.

“Just a minute!” A female voice called from somewhere behind the counter. There was the sound of glass clanking, and then a short Asian woman—Sabine Dupain-Cheng, Gabriel assumed—rose into view, setting aside a rag before dusting the front of her trousers off. “Sorry about that. There are some jars of preserves stored back here and you caught me mid-dusting. What can I do for you?”

“My... friend brought me some of your pastries. Nathalie,” Gabriel stammered out, feeling as if he needed some excuse for his presence in the shop.

“Oh, yes!” Sabine’s eyes lit up. “Well, tell me what you want, and then tell me what she liked and I can give you a few extras to bring to her. On the house,” Sabine added with a wink. “Expectant mothers can always use more sweetening up.”

Gabriel stared, startled. “Ah, she told you...?”

Sabine let out a guilty chuckle. “I guessed from the way she was eying the things with chocolate in them. But it’s still early days yet, isn’t it?”

Gabriel hadn’t considered it in those terms. “I suppose so.”

Sabine clapped her hands together, startling Gabriel. “So! What will it be?”

Gabriel took two of everything sweet the shop contained, and a further selection of macarons. Sabine kept up a cheerful chatter as she selected the pastries and cookies for him, and Gabriel gave stiff, stumbling answers, a conversation he barely remembered the contents of it when he stumbled out of the patisserie twenty minutes later, loaded down by two very large white boxes.

“You’re going to be late for your conference call,” Elanor said irritably when Gabriel slid back into the car, settling the giant boxes on the seat next to him.

Gabriel frowned. “Isn’t their office only five minutes from here? I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me showing up in person for once.”

Elanor seemed to be gritting her teeth as she offered up a “Yes, sir,” but she had him outside the front door of the office building that the meeting was taking place in within those five minutes, and got out to open the door for him. “Will you be needing my services at this meeting?”

“No.” If it had been Nathalie, he might have considered it, but truth be told he didn’t exactly have a high opinion of his new PA’s suitability for the more secretarial parts of the job. She had foisted most of them off on her assistant, and her assistant wasn’t here. “Go back to the mansion and take care of… well, whatever it is you take care of,” he added, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

She barely waited for him and his boxes of pastries to remove themselves from the car before getting back into the driver’s seat and taking off with a screech. A shame. Her resume had been excellent, but he was really starting to think that he would need to replace her.

The receptionist looked up when he walked in… and then did a visible double-take. “Mr. Agreste!” His voice had a tinge of panic to it. “You’re here!”

“I know I usually phone in to these meetings,” he said, forcing an awkward smile to his face, trying to calm the receptionist’s anxiety. “But I was close by, and I just bought an extremely large number of macarons.”

The receptionist still looked flustered. “I’ll just… call up. And let them know you’re here,” he said, picking up his phone.

“Very good.” Gabriel stood there, still feeling awkward as the receptionist had a brief, conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line.

“Mr. Agreste is here. Yes, I know he normally phones in.Yes, I’m certain it’s him. Show him up? Right away.” The receptionist hung up, a rictus of a smile stretching his face. “Right this way, Mr. Agreste.”

Gabriel followed the man to a bank of elevators. “The seventh floor,” the receptionist said, pushing the up button. “Someone will meet you at the elevators.”

Gabriel acknowledged this information with a sharp nod and stepped on to the elevator when the doors opened, pressing the button for the seventh floor once he was on and feeling ridiculous what with the way he had to juggle the pastry boxes in order to do it. He briefly considered ordering—asking, he briefly considered asking the receptionist to accompany him and carry the box. But no. He could face this on his own. He would.

Strange, he thought during the brief elevator ride, that he could go up against superheroes every day of the week and not fear for anything but that he would not achieve his goal, but the thought of attending one of these meetings in person had him in a cold sweat.

The elevator doors opened, and he squared his shoulders, gathered his dignity.

He could do this.


	11. Chapter 11

“Everything looks good! We’re just going to see if I can get a good angle to check the sex…” The ultrasound tech pressed her wand to a different portion of Nathalie’s stomach, studying the screen attached to it and occasionally pressing a button to capture an image.

Nathalie stared at the ultrasound, unimpressed. At just over five months, her pregnancy was far enough along that the tech had assured her that finding out the baby’s sex would be no problem, but as far as Nathalie could tell, the contents of her uterus consisted of a vague, baby-shaped blur that had no defining characteristics whatsoever. She could just about make out which end was the head, and that was about it.

“And it looks like this little rascal is being coy. Well, there’s always next time. But for right now, it looks as if there’s nothing wrong. They’ve hit all the developmental benchmarks they should have by this point, and that’s the important thing. All limbs and major organs intact.”

“Thank you,” Nathalie responded.

“So just the one printout, or...?” The tech drew the last word out significantly.

Nathalie hesitated for a moment and bit her lower lip, considering. “Two,” she said finally.

“One for the deadbeat dad?”

Nathalie laughed. Would the tech describe him that way if she knew Gabriel Agreste was the child’s other parent? “No, I’m doing this alone,” she said.

“Well, it’s always good to have a spare,” the tech said, setting the ultrasound wand aside and wiping the goop briskly off of Nathalie’s stomach. “I’ll just leave you to get dressed and go get those printouts for you.”

“Thank you.”

Nathalie left the doctor’s office with a decided lack of a spring in her step. It was good to know that everything was developing normally... but they had also informed her that, unfortunately, the fatigue she had been feeling lately was also probably a side effect of the pregnancy.

The fatigue... and the cravings.

She waved down a taxi and directed it to Tom and Sabine’s patisserie. She absolutely _had_ to have one of their more decadent macarons, dark chocolate with a chocolate truffle filling, dipped in even more chocolate. Sabine had been taking her through their entire selection over the past few weeks, trying to find Nathalie’s favorite… and she thought they finally had a winner, though the salted caramel macarons were also calling to her.

And the lemon.

And the raspberry.

…perhaps she should just get a box of macarons.

There were a few of other customers in the shop when Nathalie arrived, keeping Tom and Sabine busy, though both waved a greeting at her from behind the counter. Nathalie kept herself busy examining their display of macarons and mentally selecting what she wanted, but eventually her gaze was drawn to Tom and Sabine, to the effortless way they danced around one another, to the way they offered assistance before the other needed it and the unconscious—and infectious—smiles that made their way to Tom and Sabine’s faces as they worked together. A sharp pang hit Nathalie as she watched them.

Oh, how she wanted that. That effortless affection, the warmth of it, left her almost insanely jealous in that moment.

She blinked, and the moment ended. Better not to imagine what she couldn’t have. She wasn’t suited for that sort of thing, anyway.

Sancoeur. It was almost a joke, she thought sometimes, that she had been born with such a last name. She had never known how to love other people, not properly. She could make a pretense of it, but she…

Nathalie found herself with tears beading at the corners of her eyes, and she blinked again and shook her head, trying to clear it. And suddenly, Sabine was at her side, taking Nathalie by her arm and leading her through a door and up a set of stairs into what was obviously the residential part of the building, settling her down on a couch.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Just need to help Tom get those last few customers out the door.” Sabine had cupped Nathalie’s hands in her own as she spoke, squeezing them lightly, and Nathalie nodded numbly in response.

An eternity later—most likely no more than fifteen minutes, Nathalie’s dazed mind informed her—and Sabine appeared at her side once more, this time with a plate of assorted macarons and a sturdy-looking mug of what looked like tea.

“Are you all right?”

Nathalie took the mug in both hands, warming them on it. “I think so. I…” She tried to think up some excuse for her current state. “I felt a bit faint, I think. But I’m better now.”

“Have a macaron,” Sabine said, holding out the plate. Natalie rested the mug on her knee, keeping one hand secure around it, and took a macaron at random, eating it without properly tasting it. Something fruity, she thought, though if questioned she would not have been able to say what fruit or even what color the macaron had been.

Sabine sat on the couch at Nathalie’s side, the plate of macarons balanced in her lap, and pressed a hand to Nathalie’s shoulder. “I know you don’t know me all that well, so maybe you don’t want to talk. But… this has been hard on you, hasn’t it?”

The tears that she had blinked away back in the shop suddenly burst out again, flooding down Nathalie’s cheeks as she started sobbing. Before she realized what she was doing, before the logical part of her brain could catch up with what was happening, she was pouring the whole thing out to Sabine.

“And he’s just such… such an _asshole_ ,” she heard herself saying, a good ten minutes of venting later. “He’s a terrible father, and fine, it seems like he’s making an effort now, but…”

“But you don’t trust it to last,” Sabine said, taking the empty mug away from Nathalie. “More tea?”

“Isn’t caffeine bad for…?” Nathalie placed her hand protectively over her stomach.

“It’s mint.”

Nathalie hadn’t noticed the flavor of the beverage. “That would be good, then.”

Sabine stood and crossed to the kitchen, turning the kettle on. “Have you talked about any of this with him?”

Nathalie sighed and slumped forward, ignoring the pressure on her stomach as she buried her face in her hands. “Is it even worth it? I’m not even sure I want him in my life any more, but if I cut him out…”

“You’ll hurt his son.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s hard to cut someone out of your life when you love them.”

“Yes, well, Adrien is preternaturally lovable.”

Sabine laughed at that, and Nathalie looked up indignantly.

“What was that for? He is.”

“Sorry.” Sabine was leaning against the counter, an amused smile on her face. “It’s just that I was talking about Gabriel.”

“I… I’m not. Gabriel? You think I’m in love with—but that’s nonsense!” Nathalie protested incoherently.

Sabine just laughed again.

“Oh my god, I’m in love with Gabriel,” Nathalie said, blankly. “ _Fuck._ ”

“Sometimes that about sums it up,” Sabine said, returning to Nathalie’s side with a full mug for her. “I imagine you’ll get over it in time, though, if he’s really as much of an asshole as you’ve said.”

Nathalie frowned, thinking about his loyalty to Emilie, how fiercely protective he was where Adrien was concerned… and how he had asked her what she needed, when she had told him about the pregnancy, and the careful way he had approached her at Fashion Week, unsure of his own reception. “He has his good points, too.”

“I guess you need to decide whether the good points outweigh the bad, then.” Sabine had furnished herself with a mug of tea as well, and she took a cautious sip of the steaming brew. “He certainly didn’t seem… uninterested, shall we say.”

“Sorry?” Nathalie’s eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise.

“He was in here earlier today. Said you’d brought him some of the pastries after that first night you came by here.” Sabine blew on her tea to cool it.

“I did.”

“So perhaps I interrogated him a little bit. He was really quite complimentary, if a bit out of it.”

“Was he.” Nathalie felt her cheeks flush, and hated herself for it.

“I wouldn’t have mentioned it if you hadn’t admitted he has good points,” Sabine said. “I’m just saying, there’s hope there.”

Nathalie sighed. “Not really.” Not with him still obsessed with bringing Emilie back, even if he hadn’t set loose an akuma since before Fashion Week. She would never come first with him, and she knew it.

“You never know,” Sabine said, leaning back on the couch, smiling at Nathalie. “He might come around in time. You’re going to give birth to his kid, aren’t you?”

Nathalie rubbed her stomach, felt a wry little smile twist the corner of her mouth. “Not that I’ve got all that high of an opinion of him as a father…”

“I’m not saying it won’t take work. A lot of work, that he has to be willing to put in. But… there’s hope.” There was the sound of loud voices from the patisserie below, and Sabine sighed and set her mug down on the side table that was near her end of the couch. “And it sounds like Tom needs a hand in the shop again, so I’m afraid I’ll have to abandon you. But you’re welcome to stay here until you’re ready to face the world again.”

“Thank you.” Nathalie took the other woman’s hand in one of hers. “Really.”

“Any time you need it,” Sabine said with a smile. She turned to go back to the shop, but before she could get to the stairs, the door below burst open, and Nadja dashed up, Manon balanced on her hip.

“Sabine, thank god. Is Marinette around? Tom wasn’t sure if she was home yet or not—” Nadja was talking a mile a minute, breathless.

Sabine shook her head. “She went back out. There’s some group project she’s got for school.”

“Damn. Do you think you could look after Manon for a little while?”

“I suppose we could keep an eye on her in the store…” Sabine sounded reluctant, and a little put out.

“I can take her, Nadja,” Nathalie said, getting to her feet. Nadja blinked in surprise, noticing her for the first time. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s another akuma attack. Down near the Eiffel Tower. Bigger than any we’ve seen before, and I need to get on site before Ladybug and Cat Noir take it down.” Nadja handed Manon over. “I’ll call you when I’m off work again?”

“Of course. Stay safe!” Nathalie called after her friend. She cradled Manon in her arms, and Manon clung hard, looking up at Nathalie with big, scared eyes.

“Is mom going to be okay?”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Nathalie said, settling Manon down on the couch. “Is it all right if we camp out here for right now, Sabine?”

“Of course,” Sabine said, looking a little afraid herself. “It’s been weeks. What do you think…?”

“I don’t know.” Nathalie shook her head. “Look, I really will keep an eye on Manon, but could you watch her while I use the bathroom first? The tea went right through me.”

“Just down that hall on the left,” Sabine said.

Nathalie dashed for the bathroom and pulled out her phone. He wouldn’t pick up. She knew he wouldn’t. But she had to hope, so she dialed the number for Gabriel’s cell phone.

It rang once, twice, three times, and she was about to hang up when there was a click, and Gabriel’s voice was there at the other end of the line. “Nathalie? Is something wrong with...?” He trailed off, but his voice had a frantic undercurrent to it, and in the background there was the hum of conversation.

Nathalie suppressed a hysterical laugh. “Where are you?”

“A meeting. With one of our—with one of the Gabriel brand merchandisers. I just stepped out for a moment to take this call. Why?”

“So it’s not you.”

“Not me?”

“Get someone to turn on the news,” she said. “There’s an akuma.”

“There can’t be,” he protested, and she could just imagine him putting his hand to his chest where the Butterfly Miraculous was pinned.

“Well, there’s something,” she said sharply.

“I believe you,” he said in a soothing voice. “I’ll get someone to turn on the news.” There was the noise of a door opening, and the volume of the background chatter increased. “Someone already has,” Gabriel said, the chatter fading again, followed by the click of the door. “It looks like they have cell phone footage now.” He paused, and let out a harsh breath. “You’re somewhere safe?”

“At Tom and Sabine’s,” Nathalie said. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I’m going to find out.”

There was a click as he hung up, and Nathalie did what she had ostensibly come into the bathroom to do, then washed her hands and rejoined Sabine and Manon in the living room. “Sorry that took so long,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sabine responded, obviously distracted and wanting to get back downstairs to be with her husband. “You have Manon?”

Nathalie nodded and Sabine left them there.

“Hey, little monkey,” Nathalie said, sitting on the couch at Manon’s side. “Want to watch some cartoons?”

Manon climbed into Nathalie’s lap and buried her face against Nathalie’s shoulder. “Turn on the news?”

“Are you sure it won’t be too scary?”

Manon shook her head. “I just want to hear mom’s voice.”

“All right.”

They watched the breaking news together, Manon cuddled up in Nathalie's arms, her face buried against Nathalie's neck.


	12. Chapter 12

Gabriel knew he probably didn’t have time for it, but he ducked back into the meeting room and grabbed one of the macarons off the table. They had gone over well, those macarons. Everything from the Dupain-Cheng’s patisserie had, drawing attention away from Gabriel himself, giving him time to remember how these meetings went, time to settle into his persona as Gabriel Agreste, aloof and sarcastic fashion designer.

No one paid attention to him as he left the meeting room once more. Everyone was glued to their cell phones, watching the footage of the attack, and Gabriel was able to slip into an empty office down the hall without drawing attention to himself. “Nooroo?”

The kwami appeared from where he had been curled up in one of the inner pockets of Gabriel’s suit jacket. “Yes, master?”

“Here.” He held up the macaron, and Nooroo took it hesitantly, staring at it. “Well, what’s wrong? Is it the wrong flavor?”

“No! I… no.” The kwami downed the macaron in two massive bites, an impressive feat given that the dessert was the size of his head. As Nooroo ate, Gabriel pulled up the news footage on his own phone.

“Do you know what this is?”

Nooroo stared at the screen, obviously confused. “N-ooooo,” he said hesitantly. “Well… but the Peacock Miraculous is still in your safe, isn’t it?”

“That’s where I thought it was. I’m starting to think it isn’t there any more.”

“That’s… that’s not good, master. Whoever is using it—”

“I know.” Gabriel swallowed, hard, and placed his free hand over the Butterfly Miraculous. “Nooroo… After what happened last time..." He sighed and tucked his phone back into his pocket. "I’m not sure I’m ready to do this again.”

“I am,” the kwami said, leaning his tiny head against Gabriel’s cheek for a moment. “You’ll be using it for good for once.”

Gabriel let out a harsh bark of laughter at that. “I’m not very good at being good.”

“Try it out. You might like it.”

Gabriel laughed again. “Fine, then. Nooroo, dark wings rise.”

By the time he made his way over near the Eiffel Tower, both Ladybug and Cat Noir were already there. He settled himself between some flowering bushes and a decorative wall that would hide him from the casual glances of passers-bye, watching the two young heroes at a distance, a red speck and a black, scaling the body of the massive creature that was curled and coiled around the base of the Eiffel Tower. Most likely they had it well in hand, but he found himself reaching out with the power of the Butterfly Miraculous, curious.

A massive pool of rage and resentment sent him flinching back, momentarily blinded by its strength. Gabriel clung to the wall and tried to breathe. “Well, nothing ventured…” he muttered, opening the top of his cane and akumatizing the butterfly inside. “Go see what you can do against… that,” he told it, sending it in the way of the creature.

He heard shouting, and then there was a long, drawn-out yell, and suddenly the wall that was between him and the creature dissolved into dust. Close by, perhaps ten or twelve feet away, lay the crumpled form of Cat Noir, his hand outstretched. Before Gabriel could react, Ladybug was at the other hero’s side.

“Cat Noir!”

Gabriel stepped back into the partial cover of the bushes, concentrating on his akuma. If both of the heroes were here... Ah. He was able to get a hold of it, just barely. The distant roaring of the creature ceased, Gabriel ordering it to stillness.

Cat Noir let out a weak cough and tried to sit up. “I’m all right, m’lady.”

“You’re not.” Ladybug knelt at Cat Noir’s side, stiffly, painfully, as if nursing an injury of her own. “Let me get you to help.”

“You’ve only got a few minutes. You have to—”

“It’s too strong for me, Cat Noir,” Ladybug said in a weak, despairing voice. “I don’t think I can…”

Gabriel had heard enough. He stepped back out from the partial cover the bushes still provided and cleared his throat, mentally fighting against the creature his akuma had taken control of all the while.

Both young heroes looked up at him in horror. Ladybug started laughing, a harsh, bitter sound. “It looks like you’ve finally won, Hawk Moth,” Ladybug spat. Her arm was wrapped around Cat Noir’s shoulders, and he was leaning into her, in pain and barely able to sit up. “We’re about to transform back. You’ll have your Miraculouses. Just promise you’ll stop akumatizing whoever that is once you have them.” She gestured towards the creature in the distance..

“You need to go find more heroes to fight this thing,” Gabriel said desperately. He felt another mental wrench as the creature fought him.

Ladybug laughed again, sounding exhausted. “I’m defeated. Not an idiot.”

Gabriel let out a low hiss of breath. They didn’t have time for this. Already, the creature was beginning to slip the control of his akuma. “That is not one of mine, Ladybug. Well, it is now, but...” perhaps there was a simple way to solve this. “Nooroo, dark wings fall!”

There was a distant roar as the creature broke free of his akuma, but all of Gabriel’s attention was on the two young figures in front of him.

“Gabriel Agreste,” Ladybug said in a faint, surprised voice. The boy at her side simply stared at Gabriel with wide, startled eyes.

“You can come take this from me after we are done here, if you must,” Gabriel said, placing his fingers over the Butterfly Miraculous. “But for now, let me buy you the time you need to get enough help to stop that thing.”

Ladybug was frowning, but she nodded, and Gabriel called up the power of the Butterfly Miraculous once more, sending an akuma after the distant fury of the creature.

“Come on, Cat Noir.”

“Sorry, m’lady, but I’m going to stay and keep an eye on him.” Cat Noir jerked his head at Gabriel, and then winced in pain.

“I think it’s better if you come with me,” she said, her voice low and desperate. “What if this is all a trick? You’ll be helpless when you transform back.”

“I’ll be fine. You saw that the creature didn’t disappear when he transformed back. And I’m sure if he really does want to help, he’ll turn around when I transform.”

At those words, Gabriel deliberately turned away from the two heroes, his eyes fixed on the distant form of the creature. His akuma could not get a hold on it again, so he released it and sought someone else out. There was terror enough to choose from nearby.

“See?” Cat Noir’s said from behind Gabriel. “I’ll be fine.”

There was a moment of silence, and then a soft “Be safe,” in Ladybug’s voice, and she was gone, flying over his head, her yo-yo wrapped around a chimney high above.

“You really aren’t going to peek, are you.”

“There are bigger things at stake.” There. That person. A spark of defiance and curiosity amid all the terror. “Citizen of Paris, I call upon you to defend your city. Fight in the name of Ladybug.” He loosed his momentary control over his new hero’s consciousness and left them to do what they could. “I need to get over there.”

“Father.”

Gabriel’s spine stiffened. That was Cat Noir’s voice. That was _Adrien’s_ voice. He turned without thinking.

His son was sitting on the ground, looking hurt in more ways than just the physical. He looked steadily up at Gabriel, exhausted— _disappointed_ —while the black cat kwami that floated at his side gnawed away at a small wedge of cheese. “Why?”

Gabriel felt a stab of pain and turned away from his son. “Not right now. Once this is over.”

“Are you going to try and stop me from fighting?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I think it may take all of the Ladybug’s allies to fight this creature.” He glanced over his shoulder at Adrien, who had called up Cat Noir once more and stood straight again, his wounds momentarily healed by the power of his Miraculous. “I will, however, be very disappointed in you if you die.”

Adrien laughed at that, the bell tinkling at his neck. “Well, then. Let’s go!”

The creature was even more massive up close than it had seemed at a distance, an enormous white wyrm, its scaled coils lashing and twitching and ever-moving.

“Do you know what it is?” Adrien asked.

This close Gabriel was almost certain. “A Sentimonster.”

“What’s that?”

“A product of the Peacock Miraculous. Someone’s emotions, given physical form.”

Adrien frowned, and Gabriel wondered how he had never seen it, his son under the mask of Cat Noir. “Do you know who has it?”

“No.” But he had a good idea. During those first few weeks after Nathalie had left, he had been careless a time or two, had returned to his office after akumatizing someone to find the safe there just slightly ajar. The door to his office had always been locked, so he had always assumed that he hadn’t secured the safe properly, but… well, he hadn’t properly checked the contents of the safe since had stopped using the Butterfly Miraculous regularly.

And Elanor had more than enough unfettered access to Gabriel’s office to get into his safe when he wasn’t around, though if this was _her_ resentment… he really needed to start treating his employees better, Gabriel realized with a start.

He felt a surge of pain from his akuma, and he drew up his connection to the person he had akumatized. Nadja Chamack, that was her name. The reporter. “Get somewhere safe,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of it from here.”

She obeyed, and once she was at a safe distance he released her and sent his akuma hunting again. If this _was_ Elanor, and this creature was Elanor’s resentment and anger… what would be left? Satisfaction, he thought. Or perhaps pride.

There. Deep within the wyrm’s coils, at the base of the Eiffel Tower. He sent his akuma after it, but the power of the Peacock Miraculous rebuffed him.

“Do you think you can draw it away from here?” he asked Adrien.

Adrien looked up at the creature dubiously, obviously considering the size of it. “I don’t know that there’s anywhere for it to go,” he said. “But I’ll give it a try.” He slammed his staff into the ground and it grew to a dozen times its length, sending him shooting into the air.

“Be careful!” Gabriel yelled after him.

Adrien—Cat Noir—acknowledged him with a wave… and then he was gone.

And Gabriel began making his hazardous way across the lashing coils of the Sentimonster to where he could feel that hard seed of satisfaction, waiting for him.

It got easier as he went. Perhaps Ladybug had arrived with her allies, or perhaps Adrien had managed to taunt the creature into moving away. Whatever the reason, the creature’s movements became more purposeful, easier to predict, easier to dodge as he made his way further into its coils. Finally, he found himself beneath the Eiffel Tower, in a small space still crowded with the coils of the creature… and containing the blue form of someone using the power of the Peacock Miraculous.

The person using the Peacock Miraculous turned to him, a delighted smile on her face, obviously Elanor under all of it. “Hawk Moth. How wonderful! I was hoping you would show up.”

Gabriel eyed her warily. “Were you.”

“Of course. I just wanted to say that I completely understand why you do what you do.” She laughed, sounding a little unhinged. “The power of it…”

“What do you want, Elanor?”

“Who’s Elanor?” she asked coyly. “I’m Hera. And I want someone to bring me Gabriel Agreste.”

“What do you want with Gabriel Agreste?”

“I’m not sure yet.” She tapped her chin with her fan. “I think I just want to make his life as much of a hell as he’s made mine the past few months.”

Gabriel sighed. No doubt the damage to the Peacock Miraculous had something to do with Elanor’s current state, but… well. He had disliked Elanor when she had started working for him, simply because she had been taking Nathalie’s place, simply because Nathalie had been leaving him. It hadn’t been a good reason for him to take out his frustration on her, but he had no doubt that he had done so, even if he didn’t remember it through the haze that had overtaken him when Nathalie had told him she was pregnant with his child and then had pushed him away, again and again.

Gabriel took a few cautious steps closer. In her current state, Elanor apparently hadn’t noticed that Gabriel had called her by her name, hadn’t wondered at him knowing it. “And what would you give me in return?” He tilted his head to one side and considered her. “Would you help me get my hands on the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses?”

“Do you know, I just might?” Elanor said, breathless and elated.

“Then perhaps we could shake on that,” Gabriel said, stepping closer still, shifting his cane to his left hand, holding it a few inches below the handle.

“Oh, very well,” Elanor said, offering him her right hand.

Gabriel took it in his and pulled her close, looking down into her wide, wild eyes. “Was I really such a terrible boss as all of this?” he asked.

Elanor’s eyes opened wider… and then rolled back into her head as Gabriel brought the handle of his cane down on her temple in a swift, decisive strike. He wrapped an arm around her waist and held her upright as around him, the coils of the Sentimonster dissolved into nothing, and a few moments later he and Elanor’s unconscious body were surrounded by a ring of young heroes, all of them menacing Gabriel. He rolled his eyes and plucked the Peacock Miraculous off of Elanor’s chest, offering it to Ladybug. “Here. Be careful with it. It’s damaged.”

Ladybug approached and took it, eying him warily. “And yours?”

“Not here, please.” A news crew was approaching now, something Gabriel definitely did not want to deal with. He lowered Elanor to the ground and knelt there by her side for a moment. “Your Miraculous will heal her?”

“It should,” Ladybug said.

“Then let me leave.”

“I can’t do that. How do I know you’ll be there if I come for you?”

“Please. I have a son.” Gabriel met Cat Noir’s eyes over Ladybug’s shoulder. “I will give you the Butterfly Miraculous freely if you come to me. But for his sake…” Gabriel swallowed, hard. He did not know if Adrien would ever trust him again after this.

But Adrien had trusted him with the secret of Cat Noir, so Gabriel had to hope.

Ladybug’s face softened, and she stepped back. “All right. Go.”

“Ladybug!” Queen Bee hissed, menacing Gabriel with her stinger.

Ladybug held up her hand, stilling the other hero. “I know who he is. I’ll get it back, one way or another.” There was a low menace to her voice, and Gabriel knew that if he tried to run, if he tried to keep the Butterfly Miraculous from Ladybug, she would do whatever it took to find him and take it back.

“I’ll be there,” he assured her, and then he was running, making for the nearest building and scaling the side effortlessly, making his way home across the rooftops.


	13. Chapter 13

Before long, Tom and Sabine joined Nathalie in the living room, laughingly saying that no one wanted to buy pastries while an akuma attack was happening.

Their laughter sounded forced. Something was obviously worrying them; Tom kept pacing the length of the floor, from one end of the living room, through the kitchen, down the hall and back again, leaving increasingly frantic-sounding voicemails. Sabine settled on the couch next to Nathalie, Manon between them, but she kept looking at her phone as well and sending texts, and eventually got up to stand next to Tom and have a worried conference.

“Is something wrong?” Nathalie asked, leaving Manon on the couch for the moment and coming over to join them.

They both shot her worried looks. “Marinette isn’t answering her phone,” Tom said. “It’s going straight to voice mail.”

“Most likely she didn’t remember to charge it last night,” Sabine added. “But…”

Nathalie wanted to offer reassurance, but didn’t know what to offer other than a lackluster “I am sure that she’s somewhere safe.” She searched for something else to add, but couldn’t find anything, given her own worries, given the fact that Gabriel had sounded like he had no idea what was happening and that she was sure that he wasn’t the cause of it himself.

“It looks like Ladybug has used her Lucky Charm… Oh!”

All three of them looked back towards the screen in time to watch the cameraman inscribe an arc through the air, following Cat Noir’s trajectory, pausing for a moment on the cloud of dust that went up as his Cataclysm took out a wall in the distance.

“Oh dear,” Sabine said, rushing over to the couch to hug Manon, who looked terrified. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. He’s a hero, and so is Ladybug, and heroes always win, don’t they.”

“That’s right,” Nathalie added, sitting at Manon’s other side and forcing as much cheer as she was capable of into her voice. _Get there soon, Gabriel_ , she added silently, trying not to think too hard about the fact that she was relying on him to do the right thing for once. If he came across Ladybug and Cat Noir, damaged and defeated, would he ignore this threat in the face of being able to achieve the goal he had been working towards since Emilie had slipped from this world?

She didn’t know.

“Something’s happening… Is that an akuma?” Nadja’s voice asked. The camera focused in on the small butterfly, a spark of bright purple in the sky. It landed on the creature that was coiled around the Eiffel Tower and faded into its body, and suddenly those coils stilled, turning pale purple instead of the stark white they had been, the constant roaring of the creature ceasing.

“What on earth?” a cameraman could be heard asking as the camera panned back to Nadja, who looked a bit shaken.

“Well, we’re really not certain what’s going on here now. An akuma just landed on the creature, apparently taking control of it…” Behind her, the coils shifted and twitched, as if the creature were fighting against the control of the akuma. “Though if Hawk Moth really is trying to tame this creature, it looks like he isn’t succeeding,” Nadja added.

Nathalie wasn’t sure any of them breathed as they watched the screen, as the coils of the creature became more and more restless, until finally it seemed to break what little control Hawk Moth had had over it, the scales bleaching back to stark white.

A few minutes later, they all gasped, Manon letting out a little scream of “Mama!” as an akuma landed on Nadja Chamack. The cameraman, who had clearly been through this sort of thing before, kept his lens focused on Nadja as she transformed into…

“A knight?” Manon’s eyes were wide as she watched the transformation.

“I’m Dragonslayer,” Nadja said to the cameraman before turning and facing down the beast. She was clad in bright red armor, her shield a ladybug’s shell, a sword sheathed at her side, and she shone against the side of the creature as she launched herself at it.

Perhaps ten minutes later, the news cut to cell phone footage from a different place, where…

“It seems that Cat Noir is working together with Hawk Moth,” the news station’s announcer said as they aired the cell phone video. “I’m not sure what…”

They cut back to Nadja’s cameraman. Nadja had returned to his side, battered and bruised from her brief battle against the creature and free of the akuma once more, and she was directing him towards where Cat Noir had found the head of the beast, and appeared to be teasing and taunting it. Nadja kept up a running—and exhausted—commentary as Ladybug showed up with the rest of the heroes who had made their appearances in the city over the past few months; Rena Rouge and Carapace, Queen Bee and Viperion, Pegasus and King Monkey. They joined Cat Noir in trying to lure the creature away from the Eiffel Tower—“Though what for, it really isn’t clear yet,” Nadja said, before wincing and holding her hand to the side of her chest, where a coil of the creature had slammed into her when she had still been Dragonslayer.

And then, suddenly, the beast was gone, and Nadja and her cameraman were running towards the base of the Eiffel Tower, where the heroes had convened. The cameraman whipped his lens around, lightning fast, a disorienting move that managed to capture Hawk Moth as he fled over the rooftops of Paris. Nadja and her cameraman continued approaching the group of heroes, Nadja letting out a gasp as Ladybug released the power of her Miraculous, healing all that had been damaged during the event, including the reporter’s wounds… and the heroes all scattered, the only person remaining a young woman with dark hair and eyes who Nathalie recognized vaguely as the person who had been hired to replace her.

The young woman—Elanor, that was her name—was just sitting up groggily as the news crew approached.

“Miss, can you tell us what happened here?”

Elanor shook her head, and doubled over, coughing. “I… I have no idea. Where am I?”

Nadja made a valiant effort at interviewing Elanor, who had clearly been at ground zero of whatever had happened, but it seemed that there was something wrong with her that the miraculous power of the Ladybug hadn’t been able to heal. Her mind seemed loose and vague, and every other answer was punctuated with a wheezing cough that shook her body. Before long, she was claimed by the crew of an ambulance and whisked off to a hospital.

“This is Nadja Chamack, signing off.” The news channel switched over to their standard afternoon programming of talk shows, and everyone in the living room relaxed, though Tom and Sabine kept shooting worried glances at their phones.

“Why’s the shop closed?” a young female voice echoed up into the living room, and Tom and Sabine sprang to their feet, rushing across the room to embrace the young woman who had just entered the living room via the back entrance.

“Marinette, did you forget to charge your phone last night?” Tom asked, holding her at arm’s length and glaring at her.

“You know what, I must have,” Marinette said, giving her father a contrite look. “Sorry?”

“You know we want to know you’re safe if there’s an akuma attack happening. Couldn’t you have borrowed Alya’s phone to send us a text?” her mother added.

“Well… So you know how Alya runs the Ladyblog?”

“Oh, don’t tell me she was one of those people filming things from up close!”

“The news used her footage of Cat Noir and Hawk Moth,” Marinette said. “She’s over the moon.” She caught sight of Manon on the couch next to Nathalie and clearly felt like she needed a distraction. “Is that Manon?”

“Nadja came looking for some emergency babysitting help. Nathalie was kind enough to step in when _we couldn’t find you,_ ” Sabine said, emphasis on the last part.

“Well, how about I take over for a bit? I’m sure you two,” Marinette turned to her parents, “need to go down and open up the shop, and I bet Nadja will be back soon.” Marinette plopped down on the couch next to Manon, who immediately started narrating her mother’s fight against the monster as Dragonslayer.

“I do have somewhere I should be, if you don’t mind,” Nathalie said, getting to her feet.

“All right. I’ll let you out the front,” Sabine said.

Tom followed them, turning back to Marinette at the top of the stairs. “But we’ll talk about this later, young lady.”

“I was _fine_ , dad!”

Nadja was just about to try the door when Sabine came to open it. “Manon?”

“Upstairs with Marinette.”

“How…” Nadja paused, as if trying to look for the words. “How was she?”

“Good,” Nathalie said. “She wanted to watch the news.”

Nadja’s eyes went wide at that. “Please tell me you didn’t let her.”

Nathalie smiled. “I think she might have a new favorite hero. Dragonslayer.”

Nadja rolled her eyes at that and pushed past Nathalie and Sabine, heading towards the stairs.

“Thank you,” Nathalie said after Nadja had left. “For the tea and… and for listening.”

“And thank you,” Sabine said. “I think we would have had a hard time of it without knowing we needed to stay calm with you and Manon there. Tom tends to overreact to things, especially when his little girl might be in danger.”

“He’s a good father, though.”

Sabine smiled. “Yes, he is.”

“I’m off, but… I’ll be back tomorrow?”

“I’ll have some macarons waiting for you.”

Nathalie waved goodbye and made her way down the street, keeping an eye out for a taxi, telling herself that she would go home, but asking the driver to take it to the Agreste mansion instead when she finally found one that was free.

She needed to talk to Gabriel.


End file.
